Sunshine
by cougarlips
Summary: "Sometimes, when the regret settled deep enough into my stomach and the darkness because unbearably heavy, I would think about how I encouraged Serah to complete her final mission, and how I assured her it would be an eternal life. Oh, how wrong I was." 1st person, Snow's POV. XIII-2 & LR spoilers. Canon character death.


**a/n** : storytime! i wrote this for a comp1 descriptive prose assignment last year and my professor convinced me to submit it for the local writing competition. i didn't place at all, but now that all that's said and done, i really wanted to share the piece bc i kinda love how it came out. :)

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Take a moment to imagine a ray of sunlight. Do you have it? It should be warm. It might also be bright and shining, or it could be passionate and strong. Sunlight brings out the details in everything; it sheds light on what matters most and brings to focus the things that otherwise would be hidden in the darkness. It brings out the most vibrant of colors, too. Do you see how sunlight can be the most beautiful thing in the world? Yes, it can be hot – it could be blinding, too – but is it not worth it to be able to see everything so beautifully and clearly? Serah was all of those things and more.

When we met, her fair skin was strawberry red underneath sopping wet hair. She stormed inside the café, threw her belongings down on a table, and _seethed_. While everyone else stared on, my friend had the sense to go up and ask the girl what was wrong, and as she raged, I traced her features with my mind's eye. Her hair began to dry just enough that it gave the appearance of downy feathers on the top of her head. Her eyes, lilac in the lighting of the café but I would learn later were the perfect periwinkle blue, burned like boiling water, and her brows knit together to crease her forehead as she spit insults, one after another, mindlessly running together as the interest in her died down.

When we met, she felt caged, like a wild animal wanting only to be free but never able get away from its cage for longer than five minutes, and Serah never took kindly to being sheltered.

When Noel and Hope told me she died, I laughed in disbelief. As I shook off their words with a smile on my face, I could feel the tar settling into the pit of my stomach. Bile burned in the back of my throat as the two stared at me – Hope with an expression reminiscent of the look he wore for weeks after his mother died, Noel with a hollow look in his eyes and his skin ashen. These were not the faces of liars. As the acid in my stomach bubbled and boiled, I felt my throat simultaneously seize up, and Hope answered my question before I could choke it out: "Lightning is gone, too."

The only thing worse than mourning the death of your fiancée and her sister is knowing that even in death, you will never be reunited. Sometimes, when the regret settled deep enough into my stomach and the darkness because unbearably heavy, I would think about how I encouraged Serah to complete her final mission, and how I assured her it would be an eternal _life_. Oh, how wrong I was. Day after day, as the chaos pooled into my palace, I could only stare at the brand on my arm, the scorched tattoo that marked me for the rest of my life – I was a cursed being, never to live and never to die. I could only wander as a mindless beast, attacking those I love, or complete my final mission and turn to crystal, both for the rest of eternity.

In the dead of night, I remembered Serah. I remembered her as I left her, with my engagement necklace laced between her smooth hands. Her skin was pale and her face anxious, her fingers trembling with the fear of never seeing her sister or me again. I remembered how I pulled her into an embrace – how she smelt of vanilla and the wilderness, sweet and earthy, but with the undeniable scent of magic as well, like a spark in the back of your throat.

I would remember her as I next saw her, fighting alongside Noel through the millennia with calloused fingers and hardened, tanned skin. She glanced at me with a tear-streaked face, pure terror in the back of her eyes, a terror that never truly left even after we said our goodbyes. I remembered holding her as tightly as I could, caressing her pink hair, still soft like cotton candy even after the time she spent traveling, and kissing her forehead, still smooth like it was when we first met so many years before in our hometown.

When Serah died, so did my sunshine. She took my warmth with her, just as she took my passion and desire. Without her, the chaos pooled inside me, gallons by the minute, but I did not have the energy to flush it out. Without her, my life turned to darkness – unsaturated and gloomy, not unlike the chaos itself. Even so, I would not give up my memories of her for anything. Knowing the sunlight for even a minute is worth an eternity of suffering.


End file.
